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Filed by Tareq Hajjaj
A poet once said, “Things that have value in a person’s life are only
things that give him the ability to retain human dignity.”
Last month, I was working on some difficult stories, like suicide in
Gaza and how it has become more common in the community than ever in the
past. Life is precious. Every human being believes this and spends his
life trying to survive. But in Gaza, just surviving can sometimes be an
impossible task.
Through many phone calls, I surprisingly met some people who said
they thought once of ending their lives but luckily changed their minds.
But then I met someone trying to do something that may be even more
desperate than suicide.
Talal Kullab, 31, is trying to sell his kidney to meet his debts. He
recently built a home in his family building, and now he cannot pay.
Unfortunately, it’s a common story in Gaza. Some contractors did not
excuse his inability to pay and turned the bills over to the police.
Talal spent a week in prison over his obligations in the last couple of
months when he could not pay 50 Jordanian dinars. His father paid for it
after a week and got his son released.
Talal recently remarried and is waiting for a child after years of
wishing to have kids. He admits that what he’s doing is nothing but a
slow suicide. “I’m offering to sell my health to live a normal life, and
I do not know what will happen in the next five years. But I’m trying
to help myself as I have no other option,” he told me over the phone.
When I called him, I asked if he received any aid from the
government, UNRWA, or any aid organization because many programs aim to
help the poorest people in Gaza, but he said he did not. I asked him if
anyone had contacted him about buying his kidney. “You are the first
person who has called about it,” he replied.
I was moved by his answer and started to ask him more. He is a
peddler located on Al-Rimal Street, one of the most crowded areas in
Gaza. He sells boiled corn in cardboard cups to passengers. His daily
income is 15 shekels ($3.90). During his full day of work, he gets one
meal that costs him five shekels and another five for his
transportation, so he returns home with only five shekels ($1.30).
He asked me, “Tell me, if you leave your home all day to work and
work hard under the sun and bear all that tiredness and get back to your
family with only five shekels, what can you get for them? How will you
feel when your pregnant wife asks you for anything, and you cannot cover
it?” I answered him as sincerely as he asked his question. “I can get
nothing for that,” I replied.
I tried to tell him what he was doing was not a good option and he
may spend the rest of his life regretting it. But he was serious,
waiting for anyone to call him to say they wanted to pay him for his
kidney.
“I only have two choices, and the first is to go to prison and tear
my family apart and lose everything. The second is to sell my kidney and
stay among my family, maybe not in full health, but at least I will be
with them,” he said.
Talal’s story is not unique in the Gaza Strip. Most people his age
face endless economic crises and have trouble securing food for their
families. But only some people’s thoughts are like Talal’s. He may be
described as courageous or reckless; it doesn’t matter at this point.
What matters now is the despair he has reached in his life and the
consequences that may face him and his family.
The long siege and occupation have made people lose what would be
considered valuable principles in traditional Gaza society. A story like
someone selling his kidney for money would typically be unheard of – in
a place that is free and not under siege.
On the other hand, maybe this is the exact result that occupation was
meant to achieve: turning Palestinians to suicide or selling their
organs just to survive the horrible situation they are living in. When
you are worried about putting food on the table for your family, it
becomes easier to forget about retaking the homeland that was stolen
from you.
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